The Witch and the Ashlander
by Plangkye
Summary: The chronicle of a Telvanni Nerevarine - a very strange one, but what Telvanni isn't? - and her companion. Essentially, just another account of a game of Morrowind, though a modded one.
1. Chapter 1

_This will be familiar to you if you have played Morrowind, especially if you've played it with a similar setup of mods to my own (most notably Kateri's Julan and Nevena's Twin Lamps). The entertainment value is, or is meant to be, in the writing style and the character interactions, rather than the action itself._

_-P_

* * *

Words she knew not the meanings of streamed through her head as she stood in a strange, sand-blasted landscape under a red sky. Shielding her eyes from the stinging sand in the wind, she trudged forward, naked, trying to find shelter, as a familiar voice she could not place spoke in her head.

_You have been taken from the Imperial City's prison, first by carriage, and now by boat – to the east, to Morrowind. Fear not, for I am watchful. You have been chosen._

"Many fall, but one remains," she murmured for a reason she didn't know. The winds ceased and rain poured from a cloudless night sky. "Wake up," someone said. "We're here. Why are you shaking? Are you okay? Wake up!"

Tharlennis opened her eyes as she felt Jiub's wiry arms helping her to her feet. "Stand up. There you go," said her fellow prisoner, a pierced and scarred elf who had lived first in the cell next to her and later, once they had reached the Inner Sea, her cabin. "You were dreaming. Not even last night's storm could wake you," he informed her. "I heard them say we've reached Morrowind. I'm sure they'll let us go." He paused and looked over his shoulder at the sound of footsteps. "Quiet – here comes the guard."

The guard's key rattled in the cabin's lock before the guard opened the door. "This is where you get off," he said with a brusque nod in Tharlennis's direction. He unlocked her manacles, grabbed her by the arm, and began leading her away.

"But Jiub –"

"Stays here. Come with me." The guard jerked her arm uncomfortably. Tharlennis looked once more over her shoulder at the only friend she'd had in her captivity.

Jiub just shook his head. "Better do what they say," he said as the door slammed once more.

The guard led Tharlennis through the ship's bilges, then its upper level where the crew slept in hammocks. He shoved her roughly toward a ladder leading to a hatch. "Get yourself up on deck, and let's keep this as civil as possible," he ordered.

"You needn't shove," Tharlennis said to her liberator with a glare. "You don't know how to treat a lady at all, do you?"

"On deck. Now, prisoner." The guard's tone was dangerous, and the Dunmer woman obeyed. She pushed open the hatch, and a strong, dark-skinned hand helped her to the deck.

"This is where they want you," said the hand's Redguard owner. He smiled at her – it was the first smile she'd received from any of her captors, and it was something of a blessing. "Head down to the docks and they'll show you to the census office."

Tharlennis nodded. "Thank you," she said to him, and walked down the gangplank where another Imperial guard waited for her.

"You've finally arrived, but our records don't show from where," said the guard.

"I had no idea I was so important," Tharlennis said sincerely. "If you're like every other Imperial I've met you're not going to explain what you mean by 'finally' to me, either."

"In good time," said the guard. "Now, please fill in these missing parts of our records – you have my apologies."

"Fine. Cheydinhal. I don't know why it matters if I've been banished from Cyrodiil, but there you are," she told the man.

The guard nodded. "Great. Thank you." Looking at her blue-gray skin, he said, "I'm sure you'll fit right in. Follow me up to the office and they'll finish your release."

"Thank you. Are all Imperials in Morrowind this pleasant? The ones on the boat certainly weren't," she remarked as the guard walked her to the door.

"Of course not. You were just another prisoner to them," said the guard cryptically.

"You mean I'm not?" Tharlennis replied. "As far as I know, I'm just an unlicensed hedge witch whose crime of non-union magic was somehow grounds for deportation."

"Tell that to Socucius," said the guard as he opened the door for her. "Head on in."

"None of you are going to tell me what's going on, are you?" Tharlennis asked rhetorically as she stepped into the stone-and-wattle building. She strode up to a desk, where an elderly Breton man she assumed was Socucius sat writing. "Tharlennis the hedge witch," she said to him.

He looked up. "Ah yes, we've been expecting you," he said, and Tharlennis simultaneously wondered again at the maddening question of what exactly she was doing here and winced at the whining quality of his voice. "You'll have to be recorded before you're officially released," he continued. "No mistakes, and all that. Can you tell me a bit about yourself – profession, skills, experience?" He brandished his quill.

"Give me those," said Tharlennis, grabbing the forms and quill from Socucius's hand. She looked them over, placed them on the table, and filled them out herself. "There," she said, and handed them back to him.

Socucius picked up the forms and looked them over. She had filled them out fully and correctly, more so than he would have expected. "Very good," he said. "Now, the letter that preceded you mentioned you were born under a certain sign. And what would that be?"

"I have no idea why it matters, but it's the Lady," Tharlennis told him, and he dutifully wrote it down after checking the letter in question.

"Interesting," he said absently. "Now, before I stamp these papers, make sure this information is correct." He showed Tharlennis the scroll he'd been writing on, which she glanced over quickly.

"It is," she said.

Socucius took the scroll from her, stamped it with his mark, and handed it back. "Show your papers to the captain when you exit to get your release fee," he said, waving his hand toward the door she hadn't come in by. She nodded, tucking the scroll under one arm, and turned to do so.

The guard who had escorted her in unlocked the indicated door. "Continue through to the next building and talk to Sellus Gravius," he told her. She thanked him and walked past, into the hallway. Turning, she saw a door she presumed was the one she was meant to go through, and a comforting sight: A dagger, stuck point-first into a table. She wrenched it free and examined it. Blunt, but at least it was a weapon – she pocketed it and looked for anything else of value. After picking the lock of a small wooden chest with a hairpin, she discovered a small number of coins equal in value to thirty-one Septims. She helped herself to the bread and flin on the table, and walked out the door and through the small, walled courtyard to the next building, stopping to pick up a greenstone ring she noticed on the ground (closer examination revealed a faint sparkle of magic and an engraved message too worn to read). She was greeted in the next building by a man in the golden armor of an Imperial templar. "Are you Sellus Gravius?" she asked him.

"I am," he replied. "First, let me take your identification papers. Thank you. Word of your arrival only reached me yesterday. I'm here to welcome you to Morrowind."

"And I suppose you're not going to tell me why everyone's treating me like an Imperial dignitary, either?" Tharlennis asked as the captain perused her information.

"I don't know why you're here – or why you were released from prison and shipped here," said Captain Gravius, "but your authorization comes directly from Emperor Uriel Septim VII himself, and I don't need to know any more than that. When you leave this office, you are a free woman. But before you go, I have instructions on your duties – instructions from the Emperor, mind, so pay careful attention."

Tharlennis frowned. "This certainly does get stranger and stranger," she remarked. "All right, if there are conditions for my release, that's not a problem."

Gravius picked up a thick envelope, sealed with wax, from the shelf beside him. "This package came with the news of your arrival. You are to take it to Caius Cosades, in the town of Balmora," he instructed. "Go to the South Wall Cornerclub, and ask for Caius Cosades -- they'll know where to find him. Serve him as you would serve the Emperor himself. I also have a letter for you, and a disbursal to your name." He turned again to the shelf, and handed Tharlennis a sheet of parchment and a purse filled with coins. "You are free to go."

"Thank you, sir," said Tharlennis, counting the coins in the purse. She pushed open the door to the sleepy fishing village of Seyda Neen, and leaned against the wall to read her letter.

_Tharlennis -_

_You have been given these directions and a package of documents. Do not show them to anyone. Do not attempt to read the documents in the package. The package has been sealed, and your tampering will be discovered and punished._

_Follow these directions._

_Proceed to the town of Balmora in Vvardenfell District. Report to a man named Caius Cosades. He will be your superior and patron; you will follow his orders. His residence is not known, but ask at the cornerclub called "South Wall". People there will know where to find Caius Cosades. When you report to Caius Cosades, deliver the package of documents to him, and wait for --_

"Are you the one that boat dropped off? Odd to see a boat arrive at that time of the day. Hope the Imperials treated you okay. I swear they took my ring," said someone a full head shorter than Tharlennis.

She moved her letter out of the way of the speaker's face to see a male Bosmer with a turned-up nose. "Ring?" she asked.

"I swear one of the Guards has it. I had it last week before their weekly 'Let's shake down Fargoth' ritual –"

"Yes, yes. What does it look like?"

"Oh! An engraved healing ring, family heirloom of mine. You haven't seen it, have you?"

Tharlennis sighed and dug in her pocket for the ring she'd found – hopefully it was the right one, and Fargoth would leave her alone and let her finish reading her letter. "Is this it?" she asked, showing it to him.

The Bosmer's eyes lit up when he saw the ring. "You found it! Amazing!" he said, snatching it from her hand. "Thank you, thank you!" he gushed. "You are now my favorite friend!"

"That's lovely," said Tharlennis. "May I go back to reading my letter now?"

"Yes, of course. I'll be sure to tell the others, especially…"

Tharlennis had ceased listening, and returned to her letter.

_When you report to Caius Cosades, deliver the package of documents to him, and wait for further orders._

_Remember. You owe your life and freedom to the Emperor. Serve him well, and you will be rewarded. Betray him, and you will suffer the fate of all traitors._

_I have the Honor to prepare this at the direction of his Most Sovereign Majesty the Emperor Uriel Septim._

_Glabrio Bellienus_

_Personal Secretary to the Emperor_

Making a small noise of further confusion, Tharlennis folded the letter and stowed it. She didn't know where Balmora was, or what kind of a place it might be. She took stock of her current location. Seyda Neen almost defined "backwater," with a few stone-and-wattle houses at the town's center, flanked by several wooden shacks where the poorer fishermen lived. A lighthouse stood lonely on a point of land behind the census and excise office. There didn't seem to be much to the village besides the census office, the lighthouse, and a moderately-sized building she presumed to be a tavern and inn. It was to there that she decided to go first. A sign read "Arrille's Tradehouse." She opened the door and stepped inside.

"Ah, you're a new face," said an Altmer standing behind a counter. "You must be the one Fargoth mentioned. Welcome to Arrille's Tradehouse – I'm Arrille, publican and proprietor."

"Charmed," said Tharlennis with a smile. "If you're a trader, do you have any kind of clothes that beat these rags?"

Arrille sniffed. "I'd be hard pressed not to, except in the case that I did not have any clothes for sale at all," he said. "Fortunately I happen to have a robe that a customer brought in yesterday. It's on the table behind you."

Tharlennis turned and unfolded the garment to examine it. It was made of a rough green cloth and cut for a man. "I'll pass," she said. "Thanks, but no thanks. What else do you have?"

"Various forms of gear that travelers find handy," said Arrille. He showed Tharlennis what he had for sale, and she soon spent a portion of the gold Captain Gravius had given her on a backpack, bedroll, and traveler's lantern, along with a simple mortar and pestle for potionmaking. She turned to leave and ran smack into a large, red-bearded Nord.

"Whoa, lady!" he said loudly, then looked her over. "I haven't seen you before," he remarked.

"Of course not. I was just shipped in from Cyrodiil," Tharlennis told him.

The man gave a loud bark of a laugh. "Ha! Well, you look like you could a friend, outlander," he said, eyeing Tharlennis's threadbare clothes. "I'm Hrisskar. Perhaps I can be your friend." He clapped an unwelcome hand onto Tharlennis's waist and steered her up the stairs.

"I'm all right, thank you. Really." Tharlennis tried to budge his hand from its place but Hrisskar had a grip like a limpet. "No, I'm serious. You're not my type. I'm not into beards." They were halfway up the stairs.

Hrisskar laughed loudly again. "And I'm not into elves!" he replied. "No, I'd like you to help me recover some gold."

That caught Tharlennis's attention. "You've lost some money?" she asked. If this Nord was as much a drunken, foolish lout as he looked, she stood to gain a good bit of cash with a spot of deception.

Hrisskar nodded and slapped her on the back. "That's right," he said. "See, I had a bad run of luck playing Nine-holes, and lost a bit of money. Normally, I'd be fine. We can usually keep some gold in our pockets just from the money the locals pay us for... protection."

"I see," said Tharlennis. She was liking Hrisskar less and less the more he spoke.

"But I know some of them are holding out on me, especially that little fetcher Fargoth. He's come up light the past couple of weeks when I've shaken him down. I know he's stashing it somewhere." Hrisskar dropped his voice as he said this.

"Fargoth… I've heard that name. Redheaded Bosmer with a rude habit of talking too much and interrupting people while they're reading?"

"That's the one!" Hrisskar replied, loud again. "Though he never interrupted me reading anything." He dropped his voice again. "I'd like you to find Fargoth's hiding place. I know the little fetcher's got one somewhere in town. Just not sure where yet. I've already gone through his whole house, so I know he's not hiding it there. If you can find where he's stashing his money, I'll give you a share of the wealth."

"That sounds an agreeable deal," said Tharlennis, as a sly grin crept across her face. "Do you know anything that might help me find it?"

"I'm not sure where he goes, but he wanders around town at night," said Hrisskar. "I'd tail him myself but I'm on duty at night, and he'd be watching for me anyway. If you keep an eye on where he goes, I'm sure you'll be able to figure out where he's hiding that gold."

"You have a deal, Hrisskar," said Tharlennis. "I'll let you know if I find anything." Nodding to him, she left the tradehouse and went to collect mushrooms for her potions until night fell.

Twilight came, and Tharlennis had a good quantity of mushroom and draggle-tail samples in the outer pockets of her backpack. She returned to the town center and watched for Fargoth. There he was, looking nervous and twitchy, always looking over his shoulder. She ducked behind the corner of a house and, with a few arcane gestures, became less noticeable. When she came out, Fargoth was nowhere to be seen, but he soon reappeared, slinking along the wall of Arrille's tradehouse to hide behind a large tree. Tharlennis flitted after him, hiding in a doorway and watching. She cursed silently as he doubled back, but he hadn't seen her. He walked right past her, only a foot away, not noticing her standing there in the shadows. Soon as he had a good enough head start, she followed him. He took a wide path, passing the lighthouse south of town, and Tharlennis darted behind a tree as he looked over his shoulder again. When she looked out, Fargoth was waist-deep in a pool of scummy water, doing something with what looked like an old tree stump. She heard the clink of coins, and Fargoth waded back out of the pool, then dashed off to disappear into his house.

_That must be the hiding place, _Tharlennis decided, and for once was grateful for her worthless clothes. Making a face, she waded into the swampy pool and approached the stump. It was hollow, and Tharlennis removed a heavy sack of coins and put it in her backpack. She felt something long and skinny – a lockpick – and pocketed it. The last thing she found was Fargoth's ring. She considered it, and replaced it in the stump. Wiping scum from her pants, she left the pond and kept walking until she was just out of town. She saw no reason to let Hrisskar know she'd found his money, and avoided him as she left town.


	2. Chapter 2

Rain began to fall as Tharlennis sat on a rock counting the Septims she'd stolen from Fargoth. She ignored the few drops at first, but the clouds soon opened, forcing her to find shelter. Wet and muddy, she ducked into the mouth of a cave to escape the rain.

A glimmer of firelight caught her eye. At the end of a short passage, a rough-looking Dunmer woman sat at a campfire, stirring a small pot. Tharlennis called a hello.

The other woman gave a start and leaped to her feet. "Melar! Mulvisie! We've got trouble! Guard the slaves!" she shouted as she drew a dagger and ran toward Tharlennis. Instinctively, Tharlennis cast a bolt of electricity at her, but she dodged it. "A mage, are you?" she said with a fierce grin. She stabbed at Tharlennis with her dagger. "Melar will turn you to dust, if I don't slit you open first!"

"Nothing doing, bandit," said Tharlennis, grabbing the woman's knife hand and channeling numbing cold. Her attacker dropped her weapon, and as she bent to pick it up, Tharlennis drew her own blunt dagger and held its point at the back of the woman's neck. "Move and I'll cripple you at best," she started to say, but the other woman rolled to the side before Tharlennis's knife could cut her. Tharlennis cursed and reached out with a handful of ice again, distracting her assailant from a quick slash of her knife. The gambit worked: the other woman dodged the icy grip, but dodged right into the point of Tharlennis's dagger. She grunted and doubled over as the blade slipped between her ribs. Tharlennis withdrew the knife and stabbed again, slicing open the woman's belly. She fell, bleeding, as the light faded from her eyes.

Tharlennis kicked the dead woman onto her back and rifled through her pockets. The bandit woman had little of value, and the only things worth taking were her marvelously-light dagger, made of something like bone, and a key Tharlennis assumed had something to do with the slaves she'd mentioned. She pocketed it. Looking around, she saw a passage leading to another chamber. She quietly opened the gate and peered around the corner. Wooden stairs led both up and down; at the top was a wooden fence with another gate and at the bottom, a man-shaped figure in a robe stood tensed and ready for trouble. iMelar,/i Tharlennis told herself, and whispered a few words to sent another bolt of electricity at the robed figure. It was no use. As he heard it coming, he waved his hands and countered it with a blast of fire, then ran toward her, shouting an alarm. Tharlennis dodged his fireballs and closed on him, but that was what he'd wanted – grinning as she got close enough to touch, he gathered a ball of flame in his hand and grabbed for her face.

Tharlennis cursed. She muttered a spell to summon icy cold into her own hand, sharpening her fingernails into gelid claws. The enemy mage grabbed for her again, and his burning hand landed on her shoulder, scorching her clothes and blistering her skin. Tharlennis gritted her teeth and lashed out at him with her own magical claws, once, twice – he fell, his throat cut. Tharlennis dismissed her spell, and her claws melted and dripped into a bloody pool on the cave's floor.

Tharlennis took stock of her injuries. She was scratched up a bit from the first woman's dagger, and her left shoulder was badly burned from Melar's fire. She took a deep, slow breath and gathered her magic in her right hand. She lightly touched the afflicted area, and the blisters subsided, leaving her shoulder good as new – and not a moment too soon. An aging, but lithe, Dunmer woman leaped out from behind the wall and threw something small at her. The throwing star whizzed past Tharlennis's ear as she leaped to her feet and threw a ball of lightning right back. It hit the woman in the chest, stunning her momentarily, and Tharlennis used that second to charge forward with her new dagger drawn. However, she was a second too late, and the older woman nimbly dodged to the side, drawing her own dagger and shashing at Tharlennis's arm. Tharlennis cried out in pain as the knife point scored a deep gash.

"You've taken on more than you can handle, child," the woman laughed, dropping into a knife-fighter's crouch. She leaped forward at Tharlennis, but was knocked backward by a bubble of force as Tharlennis magically shielded herself.

"I'm hardly a child, Grandmother," Tharlennis shot back. The other woman cursed and threw two more throwing stars at her. One veered off to the right from Tharlennis's shield, but the other hit home, leaving a deep cut in her side. Breathing heavily, she threw more lightning at the old bandit, stunning her long enough to freeze the air around her nose and mouth. As the bandit clawed at the ice on her face, struggling to breathe, Tharlennis lashed out with her dagger, slitting the bandit's throat.

Tharlennis sat down, panting, to examine her wounds. Blood from her side and her arm was soaking through her shirt, so she used the last of her magic to stanch the bleeding. The pain was still there, but it would have to do: she would be unable to properly heal herself until she got some rest. She was covered in mud and blood, but at least the cave she was in was dry, and there was no more danger of bandits. She took the dagger from the last woman, and searched the mage's body to find another one. If there were slaves here, it would be best to arm them. She searched for more valuables, finding a few scrolls and a vial of something that smelled like skooma, which she slipped into her backpack – she never touched the stuff herself, but she knew that some would pay good money for it. She made her way back to the room with the fire and the soup, stoked it and added a log, and rolled out her bedroll to await morning and the end of the rainstorm.

On the morrow, she magically mended her cuts and bruises, and climbed the wooden stairs leading up from where she'd fought the mage and the old assassin. There in a wooden cage sat two Argonians and a Khajiit, all three wearing slave bracers. She tested the cage door – locked, but the key she'd lifted from the first outlaw opened it. She stepped inside, and the three slaves huddled against the wall.

"You needn't be afraid," Tharlennis told them. "Slavery is barbaric. As soon as I heard there were slaves here I decided to free them." Key in hand, she approached the Khajiit. "Let me see that bracer," she said. Soon, he and the two Argonians were rubbing their wrists, finally free of the heavy bracers.

"Baadargo is free now," the Khajiit said. "Will the Dunmer guide Baadargo to safety?"

"Safety where?" Tharlennis asked. "I'm sorry, I don't know anywhere for you to hide."

"Baadargo hears the Twin Lamps keep safehouses for escaped slaves," he replied. "Baadargo hears there is one kept by one who is also Khajiit, now in Pelagiad. Will the Dunmer bring Baadargo and Okaw and Banalz to Pelagiad?" He indicated the two Argonians as he said their names.

"My name is Tharlennis," Tharlennis told Baadargo. "How far is Pelagiad? I'm afraid I'm new around here."

"Half a day's walk," said the female Argonian, Banalz. "Thank you for freeing us, Tharlennis, but we will need someone to keep us safe from hunters and bandits."

"Then I suppose I'm the one to do it," she sighed, nodding. "Here – Okaw and Banalz, take these daggers." She handed the two slaves the daggers she'd taken from the mage and the assassin. "Baadargo, do you need a weapon? I do have another knife, but it isn't a very good one."

"Baadargo has claws," he replied. "Baadargo does not need a knife."

"Good," said Tharlennis. "Come with me, then. Baadargo, you keep watch behind us once we get outside, and warn us if anyone's coming. Banalz, you let me know if we're going the right way." The three slaves nodded, and Tharlennis led them out of the cave. She checked to be sure they would not be seen, and hurried her charges out of the cave.

"This way," Banalz whispered, and Tharlennis nodded. She scouted ahead to be sure there were no other travelers on the road, then returned, motioning for the slaves to follow her.

"How will I know which house is safe?" Tharlennis asked Banalz as they walked.

"I do not know," Banalz replied. "There might be a marking, but it will be small and secret. But that is only an idea."

"All right," said Tharlennis. They crested a hill, and the swampy land that they'd been in gave way to lovely meadows and forests. "This is the way?" she asked. Banalz nodded.

It was slow going keeping out of sight, but by evening, Tharlennis and the slaves had reached the shores of a lake that was, according to Banalz, near Pelagiad. Under cover of the lengthening shadows, the four of them were able to move much faster, and they were soon on the outskirts of the small Imperial town. Tharlennis asked a question she'd been wondering about. "Baadargo, who are the Twin Lamps?"

"You do not know? Baadargo was sure…" Baadargo began. "But you should be a member. You freed us, and that is what the Twin Lamps do. If Baadargo asks, 'Have you seen the Twin Lamps?' you say, 'They light the way to freedom.'"

Tharlennis nodded. "Keep out of sight," she instructed. "We're almost in town, and I don't want anyone capturing you three again. And look for something that might indicate a safehouse." The three slaves nodded assent, and Tharlennis led them into the darker parts of Pelagiad.

"Tharlennis, look, see here," Baadargo whispered as they passed an apothecary. He pointed to the corner of the house's wooden door – Tharlennis had to squint to see it in the night, but there was carved a small open shackle. "And look – the sign says Ambika. Ambika is Khajiit name."

"That's enough for me," said Tharlennis. "Wait here, I want to check and make sure." She pushed open the door and a female Khajiit stood up from the table where she was eating her supper. Shutting the door behind her, she whispered to the Khajiit, "I have a few… friends… who need your help."

Ambika nodded. "Have you seen the Twin Lamps?" she whispered back, and at Tharlennis's reply of "They light the way to freedom," she told her to bring them inside. Tharlennis opened the door and motioned for the three slaves to come in as Ambika struggled to move a large flower pot containing a gold kanet plant from its place in a corner. "Friends can hide under here," she said as she removed the pot from its place. She lifted a few floorboards to reveal a ladder down to a hidden cellar, and hurried Baadargo, Okaw, and Banalz down into it. "Friends will be safe here until nobody looks for them," said Ambika. "Then we will help them go home."

"Thank you," said Tharlennis, helping Ambika to replace the pot. "Is there anything else I can do to aid you?"

"Ambika has a letter for friend Aurora in Ald-Ruhn," said Ambika. "Could the Dunmer friend bring it to her?"

"I suppose I could if I knew how to get there," said Tharlennis. "I'm new to Morrowind. Is it far?"

"Yes, it is far," Ambika replied. "But not so far to walk. Balmora is not far, and the Dunmer can ride a Silt Strider from there."

"Oh, good, I'm going to Balmora anyway," said Tharlennis. "Yes, I can deliver it for you. And my name is Tharlennis."

"Tharlennis is good Dunmer," said Ambika. She picked up a sheet of paper from next to her hammock, and gave it to Tharlennis. "Aurora's house next to big crab shell. Tharlennis will know when she sees it."

"I'm sure I will," Tharlennis assured the Khajiit. "May I trouble you for a candle and a knife? I won't be a minute."

"Of course, friend," said Ambika, indicating the candle on her eating table. Tharlennis sat down and took the sealed package for Caius Cosades from her backpack, and held it just above the candle flame until the wax seal softened. She slid the knife under the seal and the package came open with the seal intact.

She looked at the incomprehensible jumble of letters inside and swore mildly. "I should have known it would be in code," she grumbled, and gently pressed the seal back into place, blowing on it to help the wax cool faster. "There," she said, and showed the sealed package to Ambika. "Does this look like I've tampered with it?"

"It looks sealed to Ambika. Good trick, Ambika must remember it."

"Good," said Tharlennis. "Thank you for what you're doing for those people. I'll head to Balmora tomorrow. It's too late to travel now."

"Visit Ambika again," said Ambika as Tharlennis left her house. "Bring more friends."

"I'll be sure to," said Tharlennis. "If I find anyone to introduce to you, I'll gladly bring them here."

She walked up the hill past the small houses and gardens into Pelagiad proper, rounding a corner of a brick building whose sign read "The Halfway Tavern." iAs good a place as any to stay the night,/i Tharlennis decided, iand a damn sight better than a cave or a prison ship./i She opened the heavy wooden door and stepped inside. The place was large, well-lit, and well-attended. She located the proprietor, a Dunmer woman of middle years, behind the bar. "Do you have any beds available here, or food?" she asked.

"Both," said the innkeeper, "at the same time, even, if you want." She chuckled. "How long will you be staying?"

"Just a night," Tharlennis replied. "How much will that be?"

"Ten Septims, plus food and drink," was the reply, and Tharlennis took it without haggling. She followed the innkeeper up the stairs to the end of a hallway, where the innkeeper unlocked a door for her. "Enjoy," said the innkeeper, and handed Tharlennis the key to the room. "Come on downstairs when you're ready for some food." Tharlennis thanked her and placed her things in the chest at the foot of the bed. She locked the door and went downstairs to eat soon afterwards, and spent the remainder of the night in dreamless sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Tharlennis set out early the next morning on the road to Balmora, stopping to collect flowers along the way for use in her potions. It was past noon when she crested a hill that startled her with what lay on its other side: a barren, stony gorge, which contrasted sharply with the pleasant green landscape from whence she had come. But for the clear blue sky, it almost resembled the dusty landscape from the dream she'd had on board the prison ship. Looking about her, she carefully descended into the gorge, and stopped to get her bearings. The innkeeper had told her of this place, calling it a "foyada," for it had ages ago been a river of fire from Red Mountain, and the path to Balmora followed it north for a short distance. "Walk along the bottom of the foyada until there's a pass going northwest," she had told Tharlennis. "The first one you see is the one you want. It'll come out near Fort Moonmoth and Balmora is just over a stone's throw from there as the racer flies, if you've got a good arm."

Tharlennis did not have to walk far in the foyada before she found the pass in question, and she saw the gray stone of Fort Moonmoth beside her as she came out between the high rocks of the foyada's ridged walls. A signpost confirmed that she was headed for Balmora, and the road veered off into a forest just as the sun began to set. She could barely see a few lights through the trees, and as she crossed a river, the adobe walls of a city came into view. The river ran through the center of town, and broad walkways were built on its banks, with several bridges connecting them. She gave a start as she heard a long, low howl from above her, looked up, and up, and saw what must have been the world's largest insect standing just outside the city's walls. She froze – it was facing away, so it hadn't seen her yet. As she was wondering what to do, and how to warn the Balmora's inhabitants that this monstrous thing was so near, a ragged female Argonian walked out through the gate, strolling nonchalantly right beneath the creature's claws. Tharlennis cried an alarm.

The Argonian laughed at Tharlennis's fright. "Have you never seen a silt strider, outlander?" she called back. "It will not hurt you."

"I've never seen a creature that big before," Tharlennis replied in wonderment. "It's really harmless?"

"Perfectly tame. This one belongs to Selvil Sareloth the caravaner. He will take you to Ald-Ruhn or Vivec City if you pay, or Seyda Neen if you have any reason to go there."

"People _ride_ those things?"

"So many questions, the outlander has. Yes, people ride them. They are strong and fast with their long legs, and they carry cargo. Is there anything else you want to know?"

"This is Balmora, right? Can you direct me to the South Wall cornerclub?"

"I do not go there, but I know where it is," said the Argonian. "I might tell you how to get there, if I had something in return."

Tharlennis dug in her belt pouch. "Will this do?" she asked, producing a few Septims.

The Argonian looked at the coins. "It is east of the Odai River, at the south end of Labor Street," she told Tharlennis as she took them. "Thank you, kind traveler."

"Thank you," said Tharlennis. Twilight peeked through the leaves of the great trees that stood among the mud brick buildings of the city, and Tharlennis lit her lantern as she made her way across town, over the river and past a guard tower. She soon found Labor Street and followed it until she saw the South Wall's banner waving slightly in the night breeze. She checked her letter to be sure it was the right place, and went inside.

A tall, fair-skinned woman – a Nord, most likely – leaned against a wall just inside the door. "Do you know where I can find Caius Cosades, and where I can spend the night?" Tharlennis asked her.

"That old sugar tooth?" said the Nord. "I don't know where he's living right now, but you could ask Bacola Closicus. He'd know, and he'll rent you a room for the night, too. He's probably upstairs."

Tharlennis thanked the Nord and found Closicus without much difficulty. "Evening," he said with a smile as she came up the stairs. "I heard you talking to Sottilde. I'm Bacola, and I own this place. Are you new here?" Tharlennis nodded. "I'd be happy to answer any questions you have. Now, you were looking for a place to stay the night, if I heard correctly. I have a room for rent here, if you want it. Ten drakes for the night."

"That seems reasonable enough," said Tharlennis, counting out coins. "What can you tell me about where to find Caius Cosades?"

"He rents a little bed-and-basket just up the hill on the north edge of town," said Bacola. "Go out the front door then up the stairs, then left at the top of the stairs and down to the end of the street. You can't miss it. Your room is over there." He gestured toward a door on the other side of the stairs.

"Thank you kindly," said Tharlennis, and went to her room. The door didn't have a lock, but the bed was soft enough. It would do. She slept with her pillow in her arms and her backpack under her head, and her possessions were safe.

-----------------------

Caius Cosades's house was not difficult to find the next morning, following Bacola Closicus's directions. She knocked on the door, and an old Imperial man wearing only pants and tattered shoes answered. "Are you Caius Cosades?" Tharlennis asked him. "I was told to report to you if you are."

"What?" was his reply. "Yes, I'm Caius Cosades. What do you mean, you were told to report to me? What are you talking about?"

"I'm Tharlennis, and I have a package for you. Weren't you expecting me? Just who are you, anyway, and what's going on?"

"I'm just an old man with a skooma problem," Caius replied. "You have a package? Perhaps you'll let me look at it?"

"Yes. Give me a moment." Tharlennis drew the re-sealed package from her backpack and handed it to Caius.

He looked it over, gave Tharlennis a sidelong look as he saw the seal, then wordlessly opened it. He read the encoded contents as fluently as if they weren't in code at all, and looked up, his eyes sharp. "It says here that the Emperor wants me to make you a novice in the Blades," he informed her.

"The Blades? Emperor Uriel's personal elite? _The_ Blades?" Tharlennis exclaimed, sure she was misunderstanding. "You're certainly not just an old man with a skooma problem. What's going on?"

"I'm the Imperial spymaster for Morrowind. And since I'm the ranking Blades agent in Morrowind, you'll report to me. Follow my orders, and we'll get along fine. Are you ready to follow my orders, Tharlennis?"

Tharlennis realized her mouth was hanging open, and closed it. "I… suppose," she said after a long pause. It was a damn sight better than being a prisoner.

"Good. Welcome to the service." Caius patted Tharlennis's shoulder. "Now you belong to the Blades. No, you're not a soldier – more of an agent. You can sleep here if you need to rest, but leave my things alone unless I say otherwise. You'll probably want to visit some of the Blades trainers – three of them live right here in Balmora, so they're not hard to find. What are you, a thief?"

Tharlennis kept her face still, though Caius's words struck like an arrow: he was right, though he didn't know it, and never would – she'd never been caught. "I'm a mage," she corrected him.

"Fine. That's a decent cover identity, but you'll need to play it up more than you are now. Make sure people see a mage when they look at you, and make sure you can back it up when they talk to you. Sign on with the Mages' Guild and make a name for yourself. Right now it's painfully obvious you're new here. You look a fright." He turned and opened a chest behind him. Tharlennis heard the clink of coins as Caius counted out two hundred Septims, and gave them to her. "Go get yourself a decent weapon," he told her, "and use the rest for training, and armor if you wear it. The commercial district is across the river. You can get weapons from Thorek the Nord – he runs a place called The Razor Hole – or Ra'Virr the Khajiit if you've got a bit more to spend. Meldor the wood elf sells any armor you might be after, and the folks at the Mages' Guild will teach you some useful spells if you become a member."

Tharlennis nodded. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind," she said, counting the coins Caius had given her. She hated the idea of joining the Mages' Guild and being obligated to report everything she did to her superiors; it was bad enough that she was a spy now – she would find some other cover identity, with any luck. Thanking Caius for the money, she set off across town to trade the things she had taken from the bandits for a proper weapon and clothes that didn't itch.

Ra'Virr's shop was easy to find, next to the gate. A small bell rang as she opened the door and stepped inside, and a spotted Khajiit with his whiskers waxed into a long moustache greeted her. "Ra'Virr knows why you are here," he said with a toothy grin. "You want to buy Ra'Virr's famous Daedric weapons."

_So that's what Caius meant when he said 'a bit more to spend,'_ she thought. _How in the world does a merchant like this get hold of enough Daedric weapons to say something like that?_ "Those would be completely out of my price range," she told him. "I'm more of a… general customer. I only have a few hundred Septims and a vial of skooma to trade, nothing like the thousands I'd need for a Daedric weapon."

"Not so loud, outlander," said Ra'Virr. "The Dunmer do not like skooma. They would call the guards if they knew – but Ra'Virr will buy it, quietly. Would the Dunmer like to see the Daedric weapons? They are much cheaper than you think. Ra'Virr has a sword, a spear, and two daggers."

"Let me see the daggers, then, I suppose," she said, and Ra'Virr picked up a pair of tanto made of what looked like steel. She picked one up and felt a buzz of magic. "What are you trying to pull? Anyone who knows what 'Daedric' means can tell this isn't."

"No, you are right," said Ra'Virr calmly. "But Ra'Virr is no liar. When you wish it, Ra'Virr's best weapons will be as sharp and tough as fine Daedric, and light as a netch air sac. Try it. Think at the blade, and it will know what you want."

Tharlennis frowned, and looked at the blade, willing it to change. Sure enough, the tanto's blade twisted into a wicked curve, and its grip settled into her hand as if it were made for her. "It does look like a Daedric dagger," she admitted.

Ra'Virr purred. "The magic lasts a short time, but long enough to punch through the toughest armor," he bragged. "Ra'Virr buys them direct from the Telvanni. You'll not find any cheaper than this one in all Balmora, but this one will protect you from lightning too."

"You deal with the Telvanni? Have you been to Sadrith Mora?"

"Ra'Virr gets the weapons there," he replied with a nod. "There is always much arguing, since the Telvanni do not like to share, even with other Telvanni."

"And is it true their houses and towers are alive?"

"It is true. Did you want to buy the dagger?"

"Yes, and let me see what clothes you have too. I'm sick of these rags." Tharlennis traded the skooma and some of the gold she'd picked up for the cheaper of the two tanto and a dress that would show off her curves while still allowing free movement. It wasn't at all sensible, but Tharlennis hated sensible clothing - and with magic on hand to instantly mend tears and pluck away stains, she could afford to be fancy. With a nod to Ra'Virr, she left the shop and went to find Selvil Sareloth and charter her first ride on a silt strider.


	4. Chapter 4

The silt strider was as fast as the Argonian pauper had said. With its long strides, it reached Ald-Ruhn just after midday, though the sun was hidden behind a thick layer of gray clouds by then. Tharlennis paid Sareloth and carefully walked down the steep ramp to Ald-Ruhn's dusty ground. She stopped to ask directions to where she could find Aurora to deliver Ambika's letter, and marveled at the size of the crab shell Ambika had mentioned when she saw it. It was large enough to contain several manors, not all of them of modest size, and a small wooden door led inside. She passed it by and walked along the edge of the shell until she found Aurora's store and delivered the letter. "Be sure to come again once I have written a response," said Aurora, a tall, golden-eyed Altmer with a Cyrodiilic accent.

"I'll be sure to come back anyway, when I have more money. Your selection of goods is quite nice," Tharlennis replied. "I'd stay and window-shop, but I just got in from Balmora and I haven't had anything to eat since breakfast. Where can I get some decent food?"

"Boderi Farano at the Ald Skar Inn is a fair cook," Aurora answered. "You'd probably best go there. It's just down the hill."

Tharlennis thanked Aurora and found the Ald Skar without difficulty. As she sat eating a lunch of kwama eggs and scuttle, she heard two other patrons talking. "I dumped her once I got here," said one. "I don't even care anymore about the money. She was too irritating to take all the way to Ghostgate from Vivec."

"I'd have kept on with her and demanded a bonus," said the other. "I mean, honestly, she may have been the worst client in the world, but she was still a client."

"I told you, I don't care. It wasn't worth it, and I'll find someone else to escort so I can eat. I'd have to be pretty desperate to keep her on board."

Tharlennis checked her purse to see how much money she had left – it wasn't much, perhaps enough for another two or three days at an inn including food. She paid Boderi for her food and, after asking directions to Ghostgate, went to look for work that came in the form of an annoying woman.

Not far from Ald-Ruhn, she heard the voice of an aging woman call "You there!" from atop a hill.

Tharlennis looked up and saw the woman who called, a matronly Imperial with mousy brown hair and a blue dress that clearly had many petticoats. Tharlennis indicated herself.

"Yes, you," snapped the woman. "I'm in need of an escort. You'll do in a pinch."

"Good. I'm looking for work. What will you pay me?" Tharlennis responded, gently lifting her skirt out of the ashy sand as she ascended the hill.

"Nothing, if you don't get me to Ghostgate Shrine in two days," said the woman. "But that shouldn't be too much of a problem – it's only a day's walk if you hurry. I'll pay you when we get there if you've done a good enough job protecting me."

"Protecting you from what?"

"Cliff racers. Nix-hounds. Whatever. Even you should be able to take care of that sort of thing. I haven't got all day. Shall we go?"

"I don't see why not. I'm Tharlennis. What should I call you?"

"You may address me as Viatrix. Let's go. And be quick about it."

Viatrix proved to be exactly as irritating as the man in the inn had implied. Every fifty feet she had something to criticize, constantly admonishing Tharlennis for going the wrong way, not going fast enough, not paying attention to the local wildlife, or skirting too close to a Daedric shrine. The sand slowed her up, and she blamed Tharlennis for it despite the fact that it was she who was lagging behind. "Can't you take me on a route that's not as soft?" she asked, knowing full well that there was no such route.

A low hum filled Tharlennis's ears as she neared the top of a hill. "What's that noise? Do you hear it too, or am I imagining things?"

"Of course I hear it. It's the Ghostfence – didn't you know that? Keeps the Corprus beasts inside on Red Mountain instead of out here… well, most of them, anyway. There it is. Now do you see it?"

Tharlennis nodded. "Forgive me for being an uneducated outlander," she growled at Viatrix, "who has never heard the sound of a massive magical barrier." She could see it now, rising at least fifty feet into the air, supported by impressive carved stone columns.

"Well, follow it," Viatrix ordered. "No, not that way, you idiot! Honestly, I'll never make it to the shrine with such an incompetent escort. Watch out!" She grabbed Tharlennis's head and forcibly turned it toward a charging cliff racer. Tharlennis threw a ball of fire at it, then another, and drove it away, ignoring Viatrix's protests that she couldn't even do magic right.

She heard a man scream as she rounded the corner of an enormous volcanic boulder. Looking around, she saw its source – a leather-clad Dunmer stood just outside a tall stone gate in the Ghostfence, assaulted by three skinny reptiles that looked like they might be clannfears. He thrust his blade at one of them, but another leaped on his back and tore at him with its claws. Without thinking, Tharlennis willed her magical knife to be Daedric-sharp and ran to help him, ignoring Viatrix's complaints. She slashed with the dagger in one hand while she laid about with flames from the other, knocking the clannfear from atop its prey. Her dagger barely scratched the clannfears' tough scales, and the other two turned from the fallen Dunmer man to attack her as well. "Viatrix, don't just stand there! He needs help!" she yelled, as a clannfear hissed in pain at her fiery touch.

"I'm not getting myself killed over some Ashlander! Do I look like a fighter?"

"No, but I'm not about to let 'some Ashlander' get killed when I can do something about it!" Tharlennis shot back. One of the clannfears now lay bleeding and scorched, but the other two had her flanked. It took all of her concentration to keep her wounds from bleeding. "Now get over here and do something before they rip me up too – if they take me down, they'll go after you next!"

"I tell you… fine! But you'd better keep me from getting hurt!" said Viatrix. She picked up several moderately-sized stones and began throwing them into the melee. Her aim was good, and her arm strong. Soon one of the clannfears had completely forgotten about Tharlennis as Viatrix pelted it with rocks, moving with surprising alacrity in all her petticoats. Tharlennis squared off against the other hissing beast, blinding it with a cloud of conjured snow as she cut its throat. It gave a few last shrieks as it clawed at her in its death throes, then fell still.

Summoned by a shriek from Viatrix, Tharlennis ran behind the clannfear assailing her and froze a block of ice beneath its neck shield, keeping it from moving its head. Viatrix picked up a larger rock and brained it, and Tharlennis finished it off. She ran to the Ashlander's side. "Are you all right?" she asked him, rolling him onto his back. He was bleeding badly, even worse than she was.

He coughed. "I suppose I should thank you," he said weakly, "for your help with those clannfears, although I never asked for it." He coughed again. "Everything was under control."

"Under control?" Tharlennis repeated as she magically closed the worst of her wounds. "It sure didn't look like everything was under control."

The Ashlander sat up, wincing at the pain of a deep gash on his back. "Well," he said, "I was actually quite capable of dealing with them myself, you know. You didn't have to interrupt."

"They were making mincemeat of you!" Tharlennis countered.

"Are we going to stand here all day? May I remind you that you're on a job?"

"Quiet, Viatrix. Look at your wounds… whoever you are!"

The Ashlander laughed bravely. "I'll have you know I was just playing with them. Practicing," he bragged. "Then you come blundering in playing the hero and ruin it for me! Next time, keep out of it, all right?" He took a wad of dried leaves out of his belt pouch and tried to use them to stanch the bleeding of his leg.

"I just saved your life!" Tharlennis informed him. "Are you always this ungrateful? You probably don't want me to heal you, either, since you're busy practicing bleeding to death."

He coughed again. "Ah… well, actually…"

"No, no, I'm sure you don't need me," said Tharlennis sarcastically, arms akimbo. "I'll be quiet and let you carry on with your training. I'm sure some more Daedra will be along any minute now. Come on, Viatrix. You're at least paying me for putting up with an ungrateful s'wit." She turned as if to leave.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. Come on – where is this shrine you're going to? This is Ghostgate, right?"

"Wait! Please…" the Ashlander called as Tharlennis started to walk away. She turned, eyebrows raised, and looked at him. "All right," he said. "I apologize. I'm glad you arrived when you did. You probably did save my life."

"Probably?"

"We don't have time for this!"

"I said be quiet. Now, you with the too-small amount of blood – probably?"

"All right! You definitely saved my life. Are you happy now? And, uh, are you going to heal me like you said you could? I'd really be grateful. I've run out of salves, and my own magic is running dry…"

"Thank you. Yes. Hold still." Tharlennis knelt beside him, and channeled her power into his body. His wounds stopped bleeding, then closed.

The Ashlander sat up straighter and tested his limbs. No scars could be seen through the ripped holes in his clothes, and his hands seemed to work fine. "I feel a lot better now," he told her. "Thank you. This whole thing is… very embarrassing."

"Why? Is there some shame in being rescued?" Tharlennis asked, hushing Viatrix again.

He shook his head. "I'm trying to become a strong warrior," he replied. "It's… expected of me. But I spend all my time training, and it's clearly still not good enough." He made a loud noise of frustration: "What would my tribe think of me if they knew I had been rescued by an outlander? An _outlander_, for Azura's sake!"

"Oh, come on. The only thing different about me is that I have a Cyrodiilic accent," Tharlennis chided.

"It still looks bad," he countered, his face darkening slightly. "I mean, no offense…"

"Come on, it's not _that_ bad," she pressed. "There were three of them, after all – and they would have killed me too if Viatrix weren't so good at throwing rocks."

"Thank you," he said, sounding a little haggard. "But you don't understand… how could you? You have no idea who I am, or what I have to do, and why…"

Tharlennis sat down next to him. "So tell me," she said.

"It's not that simple," he sighed. "I can't just go around telling everyone, and certainly not an outlander. All I can say is that I've got a sacred mission I need to carry out within the Ghostfence on behalf of my tribe, and others. But I've been training around here for a week now, and I can't even deal with the creatures on this side of the fence, save the cliff racers! How can I hope to survive when I go inside?"

"Well," said Tharlennis thoughtfully, "if it's a sacred mission, won't the gods protect you?"

He gave a mirthless half-laugh. "That's what my mother says," he said. "She has incredible faith – in the gods, and in me. That's why I have to succeed; I can't disappoint her. But I'm not sure I share her faith… maybe that's my problem. She used to be a wise-woman for the Ahemmusa, but we live apart from the camp … I suppose she'd be called a mabrigash now."

"A what?"

"A mabrigash. A witch. That's what people call wise-women who live away from camps – they say they practice dark magic, and steal men's life essence. But my mother only uses her magic for good purposes."

"Are you going to sit there talking to that Ashlander you saved all night?" Viatrix snapped, tapping her foot. "I'm waiting!"

"Would you be quiet? You said yourself that we're almost there. Honestly…" She turned to the Ashlander. "I'm Tharlennis. No last name – never bothered with one, and never had a family to give me one."

"You're stronger than me, Tharlennis… have you ever been inside the Ghostfence?" asked the Ashlander.

"Not yet, but that's where I'm taking this… lovely woman," she replied, indicating Viatrix. "Relax, Viatrix, I'll get you there in time."

"You'd better! I can't believe how much of a hold-up you've been…"

"Excuse me for saving a life! See what I have to put up with? As if I _want_ to take longer with the way she nags…"

"I thought so," said the Ashlander with a nod. "You're strong enough to deal with those ash monsters, or you will be soon." He paused. "I wonder… would you help me develop my skills? I know a little magic already. Would you teach me?"

"And here I never would have thought you'd ask that kind of thing from someone with a Cyrodiilic accent, with the way you were talking before," said Tharlennis. "Are you sure?"

"If my people knew, they would be horrified," he replied, "but I can't see any other way. I'm just not getting anywhere by myself. I need a teacher, and you… well, you seem like you could be one. Outlander or not, you're the only person I've met so far who has helped me. That has to mean something."

"I try," said Tharlennis. "Goodness knows I've dealt with enough unhelpful people in my life. I'm not sure about teaching, though…"

"It's not as if I'd be useless," said the Ashlander. "I can fight and look after myself, and I can cast a few small spells. I wouldn't be a burden, and two is usually safer than one. I'd be useful."

"What spells do you know?"

"I can levitate a little, and breathe water and heal myself if I'm not too tired," he replied. "And I think I'm probably as good as you with a knife, even though I didn't see much when you were… saving me. I can fix things, too, if I have the tools for it." There was a long pause as Tharlennis waited for him to say the one other thing she needed to know. Julan looked at her blankly until he realized it, and smacked his forehead. "I'm an idiot! I haven't introduced myself!" he exclaimed. "My name is Julan Kaushibael, Hearthfriend of the Ahemmusa tribe. Or I was. I'm actually an outcast… but, uh, it's complicated."

"That's all right. So am I, kind of. An outcast, that is."

Julan nodded. "So, will you do it? Do you think we'd make a good team?"

Tharlennis thought for a moment. "Well, I don't know if I'd be any good as a teacher," she told him, "but I'll show you what I can, and I could use someone to watch my back. I'm new to Morrowind, too, so having a native as an ally would probably be a very good thing. I _know,_ Viatrix. You don't have to tell it to me if I just said it myself."

"Great!" said Julan. "I have to admit it was getting a little lonely hanging around here by myself. I'm afraid I don't know a whole lot about Vvardenfell either, though… this is the farthest I've ever been from home. I'll tell you what I can but I've never been to any big cities. Look, now that you're here… how far inside the Ghostfence were you planning on taking her? I'd like to come along, if it's not too far… just inside the gate, to get used to it. I have to."

"Viatrix? How far in is the shrine you're going to?"

Viatrix sighed. "Just up the mountain a little bit," she replied as if for the fiftieth time.

"There's your answer, Julan." Tharlennis stood and helped him up. "Come on, let's go. Yes, Viatrix, we're actually going to that shrine now. You do know the way, right?"

"Of course I know the way. You've wasted enough of my time. Now, I want one of you in front of me and one behind, you hear?"

Julan and Tharlennis gritted their teeth simultaneously. "Fine," said Tharlennis, and Viatrix placed her hand on the switch to open the portcullis.

As soon as all three of them were through, Julan stopped. "What are you waiting for?" Viatrix scolded him. "Come on, we haven't got all evening. If you hurry, you can have me there by dark."

Julan ignored her. "Tharlennis, I'm sorry," he said loudly over the rising wind. "I thought I was ready to travel on Red Mountain, but… well, I'm not. I know I'll have to come here, but I just can't – not yet, not now. Please, let me cast Almsivi Intervention to bring us out of here. I'll tell you when I'm ready to return."

"Absolutely not!" Viatrix shrilled. "If you teleport us all out of here, I'll never make it to the shrine! Tharlennis, why did you have to pick up this baggage?"

"Julan is a sight more pleasant than you," she replied. "You'd better pay me for what I had to put up with here. Julan, I can't help it if you're not ready, but I have to deliver Viatrix to that shrine. I'll meet you in Ald'Ruhn in a day or so."

"Fine," Julan grumbled. "I'll see you later, assuming you bother to return for me."

"Julan, don't talk like that, I wouldn't –" Tharlennis began, but Julan had already vanished in a cloud of white stars. Viatrix huffed.

"Good. You got rid of him," she said, shielding her eyes from the blowing ash. "Now hurry up. I haven't got all week."

"I expect to be well paid for this," Tharlennis grumbled, but Viatrix didn't listen.

It was not long before Tharlennis glimpsed a small wayshrine through squinted eyes. She indicated it, and Viatrix nodded. She made a face as they approached it. "Well, we've arrived," she said, "surprisingly enough."

Tharlennis nodded, eyes narrow partially from annoyance and partially to keep out the ash. "Yes. My money?"

"Oh, I suppose I really ought to give you something," she sighed. She counted out a few coins. "Here. Take it. Now leave me."

"A hundred Septims? I can't buy a lot with that."

"It's more than you deserve for the time you wasted putting me in danger from those Clannfears," Viatrix scoffed. "You'll not get a copper more. Now scoot. I don't need you anymore."

If not for the weather, Tharlennis would have bared her teeth – it was difficult to quell murderous thoughts, but even though there were no witnesses, she decided against the idea of knifing the pilgrim in the back. She stalked off down the mountain and headed for Ald-Ruhn again.


	5. Chapter 5

The ash storm cleared up the next morning, and the sun shone between puffy white clouds as Tharlennis passed into Ald-Ruhn.

Julan was sitting at a table with an older Dunmer man who was also dressed like an Ashlander. She sat down next to him. "Hey," she greeted him. "I told you I'd come back for you. Are you doing all right?"

Julan bit his lip. "I…" he began. "I'm sorry for what happened back there."

"Sorry for what? And is that stuff you're drinking any good?" Tharlennis asked. "Honestly, you don't have anything to apologize for."

"Boderi's matze is the best I've had," Julan answered. "Gods, you must think I'm an utter coward. But I swear this to you: I am a warrior. I have never run from a fight, and I do not fear death."

"Then what were you afraid of? May I?" At Julan's nod, Tharlennis poured herself a mug of the local brew he'd been drinking. It was strong, but its bitterness was not overpowering.

"I'm not afraid of the ash monsters on Red Mountain, it's something else… hard to explain," said Julan, resting his forehead in one hand. "I think it's something to do with these weird dreams I've been having."

"Weird dreams? How so?"

Julan sighed, and took a long draught directly out of the jug. "I often have dreams that I'm climbing Red Mountain, and it's dark… the air is filled with ash, and it's getting into my eyes and mouth… it gets harder and harder to keep moving." He paused a moment and dropped his voice. "And there are all these voices surrounding me, whispering things…"

"Like what?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "I can't understand what they're saying. But they sound…" He paused, looking for words. "Not good," he decided. "I mean, you've heard of Dagoth Ur, right?"

Tharlennis nodded, frowning.

"I thought so," he replied. "Even an outlander must know about him – the devil that lives under Red Mountain, yes? Who is supposed to make people go insane by sending them dreams? Well…"

"And you've been getting dreams. You're not about to go crazy on me, are you?"

"No!" Julan said decisively. "I'm not insane, and I'm not planning to be! Dagoth Ur is just a powerful figure in our history and legends – of course a lot of people dream about him. It's nothing," he said, sounding as if he was saying it to convince himself as much as Tharlennis.

"All right, I'm sorry I mentioned it," said Tharlennis. "So what's bothering you so much about these dreams that you can't set foot on Red Mountain?"

"They aren't. I mean… they won't," he amended. "I know it doesn't make sense. Just give me time, please. Maybe we can carry on with my training. I need to take my mind off things."

"Whatever you say," Tharlennis assured him. "So you're up for learning a little magic? Come on, let's see what you can do. How good are you with fire?"

"Not bad," he replied as they walked up the stairs and out of the inn. "Nothing like what you did to those clannfears."

"Well, I suppose that's as good a place as any to start," said Tharlennis. "Come on, we'll find some cliff racers to practice on outside the city walls ."

It was not difficult to find cliff racers – in fact, the aggressive creatures found them. Tharlennis watched and instructed as Julan took one on with just his magic. He killed it without too much difficulty as Tharlennis left the other two in a scorched heap, and Tharlennis corrected his technique, showing him how to efficiently move his hands past an opponent's defenses. "Practice on me," she said. "Don't worry about hurting me, I can heal myself just fine. It's no good to go halfway. Be ruthless – you have power, so use it."

"You sound like a Telvanni," said Julan.

"Do I? I've never met any," said Tharlennis. "From what I hear they're much more lenient than the Guild. Come on, burn me. No, more than that. I told you, don't worry about hurting me. Ouch! Better. Much better. No, I'm fine. Stop worrying." She ran her fingers over the spot Julan had touched, and with a pale blue glow, the burn disappeared. "I wonder if they'd take me on as a retainer. I could use a…" She stopped herself before she said "cover identity."

"They might," said Julan. "You're definitely magical enough. It probably helps you're a Dunmer, too, even if you are an outlander and not crazy. They'll probably be less picky anyway, since you're so good at magic. Why?"

"Because I ought to fit in somewhere," she decided after a pause. "I don't exactly have a home just now. If I got involved with a Great House, I might be able to carve out a niche for myself. That's not to say I'd stop training you, of course," she finished.

"Well, that makes sense," said Julan, nodding. "I guess you'll want to go to Sadrith Mora, then. I'm pretty sure that's their capital. How would we get there?"

"I'd probably ask a caravaner. Come on, it's getting late – let's head back to the city."

-------------------------

The caravaner informed Tharlennis and Julan of the route they'd have to take to reach Sadrith Mora the next morning, and Tharlennis paid the fare for two to travel south, then along the coast until they reached the citadel of Molag Mar, where they switched to a boat. It was a few days before they reached their destination, and when they arrived at a long, curling dock carved of living wood, it was twilight. Tharlennis and Julan walked side by side toward a marvelous gatehouse hollowed out of some giant plant or fungus. They walked beneath it through a green tunnel and emerged to a view unlike anything either of them had ever seen. "So this is Sadrith Mora?" Julan asked admiringly. "It's so huge and weird!"

"It's beautiful," Tharlennis breathed. She gazed upon the structures that made up the city, the setting sun's rays painting their white walls pink. "A living city… I knew they existed, but I never realized how amazing it all would be. Have you ever seen anything like it?"

"I've been to Vos and one or two of the other Telvanni towns a few times, but this is something else," replied Julan, his eyes climbing to the top of the huge tower in the center of the city, and sighed. "Tharlennis… can I ask you honestly… do I seem like a complete savage to you?" Before Tharlennis could answer, he continued. "I know how people see Ashlanders – violent, uncivilized barbarian tribes, living in filth and squalor, obsessed with ancient superstitions. You settled types with your luxuries can't understand we _choose_ to live as we do, so you think we must be ignorant savages – but let me tell you, we are proud of your culture. We have things more valuable than the tasteless displays of wealth you get in cities like this."

"I wouldn't call this tasteless," said Tharlennis, still gazing about in the waning light. "This is… I know, I already said it, but it really is. It's beautiful. It's so… organic. But I don't think you're a savage. I'm not about to tell someone else how to live their life."

"You're more open-minded than most people I meet," said Julan at that. "Perhaps it is because you are an outlander. Strange. You seem to understand me better than the native Dunmer!" he laughed. "But really, people like you are rare, and my people are viewed with suspicion in the cities. I may be proud, but my mission must be kept a secret, and I worry about looking too conspicuous. I don't know. What do you think?"

Tharlennis checked her purse. "Well, I've got some money," she said. "Let's work on finding you some new clothes, or at least some clothes that smell less like a goat."

"I have never even seen a goat. How could my clothes smell like one?"

"Well, they smell like something, and if it's not goat I don't know what it is. Never mind. The point is that you need new clothes. Maybe some new armor, even – the stuff you've got looks pretty worn out."

Julan nodded, and they set about finding a tailor or merchant, but every seller of clothes they found charged ridiculous prices to a non-Telvanni. "If you want me to give you a discount, go talk to the Mouths in the Council House and see if they'll let you be one of us," was the most generous answer Tharlennis got when she tried to haggle. She asked directions, got them, and crossed a root bridge to the large, nearly iridescent globe that was the Council House.

She opened the round wooden door and crossed the threshold into the structure. "Is this where I go to join House Telvanni?" she asked the first person she saw, a Dunmer woman in a robe. The woman directed her through another door into the main council chamber. Tharlennis cautiously opened the door to the vaulted room, its walls lined with shining crystals, and looked around. A number of elegantly-robed Dunmer stood on shelf-fungus platforms at the room's edge: the Mouths. "Excuse me," Tharlennis asked one. "My name is Tharlennis. Are you accepting applicants?"

The Mouth looked down at Tharlennis and Julan with eyes that pierced through their mundane exteriors. "Which of you seeks to join us?" she asked, and when Tharlennis indicated herself, nodded. "Yes, you may be worthy," she said. "In fact, we are even seeking an Outlander for a special job. Perhaps that is you."

"So you'd take me? What would I be getting myself into if I did join you?"

"We trust all members of House Telvanni to use their own judgment," said the Mouth, her tone indicating she'd said the same thing to many others. "If you steal from another Telvanni, but still live, then clearly you deserve whatever you stole. Murdering your opponents by magic or treachery is the traditional way of settling disputes. If you win, then clearly your argument has more merit. You may be expelled as in any other Great House, but most Telvanni will not care or even know about it. Does this appeal to you?"

Tharlennis knew the Telvanni were lenient about rules, but she had not expected them to be this lenient. "If I'm to have so many freedoms, of course it does," she told the Mouth with a smile. "What was this special job you mentioned? I'll take it on."

"Good," said the Mouth. "You are now a member of Great House Telvanni. Welcome, Hireling Tharlennis. The task I give to you is one of stealth. Is your companion trustworthy?"

Tharlennis looked at Julan, then back to the Mouth. "Anything you can say to me, you can say to him," she said.

"Then your task is to be a spy for us. Lead the Guild of Mages to believe you work for them, and learn their secrets. Those secrets you will tell to us."

Tharlennis made a face. "I hadn't meant to pledge myself to a guild that would take my own secrets for theirs," she said sourly.

"Then feed them misinformation. Sow dissension where you can while you earn their trust. Follow the orders of the guildmasters only when they serve your own purposes, otherwise stall. We will not ask you for your secrets, either – only theirs."

"Then I suppose it isn't such a bad thing," Tharlennis thought aloud. "All right. I'll do it. Where do I go to sign on with the Mages?"

"Wolverine Hall. Their Guildmaster is an Argonian, so he won't be hard to recognize," the Mouth instructed. "South of the city. Big Imperial castle – hard to miss. Go."

With a nod, Tharlennis left the council chamber, to try and find some proper clothes and armor. There wasn't much for sale in Sadrith Mora, so they instead headed for Wolverine Hall. The Mages' Guild quarters were somewhat hard to find in the castle's confusing passages, but eventually they found them. Tharlennis saw one Argonian among the elves and humans, and approached him. "I'm here to join the Guild," she told him.

The Argonian looked up from his alchemical apparatus and blinked slowly. "Welcome." His voice was soft. "You are a mage?" At Tharlennis's nod, he closed his eyes for a moment. "Yes, we could use you. Will you take the Mages' Oath and join us, then?" He saw Tharlennis's cocked eyebrow and explained. "Perform any duties you are assigned by the masters of the Guild. Learn from them and grow strong. Always share your knowledge freely with other Guild members. Never strike or steal from another member. Does this appeal to you?"

_I suppose I'll just have to avoid being caught,_ Tharlennis thought, and said aloud, "I agree to that."

"Then you are now a member of the Guild," said the guildmaster. "I have no duties for you, but Ranis Athrys in Balmora or Edwinna Elbert in Ald-Ruhn might. Iniel will transport you there for a small fee." He waved a scaled hand in the direction of a young Altmer woman.

Tharlennis thanked him and turned to Julan. "Shall we head for Balmora? I think that might be the best place to buy you some new things, and I have someone there I need to speak to." At Julan's nod of assent, they paid Iniel, stepped up onto the platform beside her, and vanished reappearing on a similar platform in a blue-lit adobe room. A female Khajiit worked at a desk making potions, occasionally stopping to tend a kitten Tharlennis assumed was hers in a basket. "Where can I find Ranis Athrys? I need something to do."

The Khajiit purred. "Ajira has not met you before," she said. "You a new associate?"

"Yes. I'm Tharlennis. Where can I find her?"

"Ranis," hissed Ajira. "Ranis would not give any duties to the new associate. She would send Tharlennis to Ajira, but that is good, because Ajira needs an assistant. Ajira must write a report on the local mushrooms, but Ajira cannot gather them herself because she must care for a child."

"And you want me to find mushrooms for you? Fair enough. What kinds, and what do they look like? I might even have some of the samples you need on me already."

"Luminous Russula, Violet Coprinius, Bungler's Bane, and Hypha Facia. Ajira knows that you can find all these on the Bitter Coast. Will Tharlennis show Ajira the mushrooms she has?"

Tharlennis dug the samples she had collected on the way to Pelagiad from her haversack and showed them to Ajira. Ajira purred. "Yes, these are all good samples," she said with a nod. "Tharlennis has all the mushrooms Ajira needs," she said, placing the samples carefully on a tray. "Now Ajira can write a report and be a Journeyman. Here – Ajira has made some potions that might be useful to Tharlennis. Ajira is no great alchemist yet, but take them in return. Now Ajira must ask another favor. Ajira made a bet with Galbedir…"

"Who?"

"Galbedir. The Bosmer enchantress who wears too much face paint. Ajira made a bet that she would be a journeyman before Galbedir. While Ajira studies these mushrooms and writes a report, Ajira wants you to give Galbedir a fake soul gem." She rummaged around in her desk and produced what looked for all the world like the genuine article. "Ajira made this," she said proudly. "When Galbedir comes downstairs, take this and put it in Galbedir's desk. Make sure no one sees you do this thing."

Tharlennis picked up the fake gem, and looked at it. "Perfect," she said. She hadn't expected an opportunity to sow dissent and perhaps even mayhem would come so soon. She strolled up the ramp to the second level, passing a Bosmer along the way who, judging by her elaborate makeup, could only be Galbedir.

Julan laughed, and Tharlennis felt his hand on the one of hers that held the false gem. "Can I look at that for a minute?" he asked, and Tharlennis showed him. He hummed admiringly. "It is very convincing!" he said. "I'll have to ask Ajira how she made it – I'd love to try this trick on my mother! But let's get it into Galbedir's desk before anyone sees us."

Tharlennis nodded, and replaced the real soul gem inside Galbedir's desk with Ajira's fake. She looked over the gems on top of the desk, all of them glowing faintly, showing they contained souls. "This is an opportunity," she murmured, and pocketed the largest one.

Julan frowned. "You shouldn't do that," he said. "It'll get you in trouble, and besides, it's not right."

"Nobody saw me come up here," Tharlennis argued, examining another of the gems. "When Galbedir comes back, they'll just have mysteriously vanished, and she won't know who did it. These are valuable, and to be honest, we need cash."

"Well, what if you get Ajira in trouble?" Julan countered. "If she and Galbedir have a bet going, the blame's going to fall on her."

"And she won't know anything about it, and won't have the gems. She won't get in trouble, and by the time anyone tracks it to me, I'll have sold them off. We're helping her, even – how's Galbedir going to enchant anything without her gems?"

"I'm not going to be able to stop you then, I guess," Julan sighed as Tharlennis took the last of the gems. "Come on, we did what we came to do."

Tharlennis casually walked down the stairs and the ramp to speak to Ajira. "It's done," she said, and Ajira thanked her. She turned to Julan. "Come on, I need to talk to someone on the other side of town, and you need to get something new to wear. Here." She tossed him her backpack. "Don't worry about how much you're spending, I'm pretty sure I'm going to get some more money soon. Don't worry about how you look either – just try to find the most well-made things you can. I've got to talk to this guy in private, so I'll meet you at the South Wall cornerclub, all right? If something comes up and you have to find me, ask someone there how to find Caius Cosades, because I'll be at his house."

Julan nodded with a frown. "You didn't make me go away last time," he grumbled. "Fine. I don't care. I'll let you have your Very Important Private Conversation." As Tharlennis made for the other side of town, Julan stalked off in the other direction to buy new things for himself.


	6. Chapter 6

Tharlennis knocked on Caius's door to announce herself, then let herself in. "Do I look less a fright?" she asked him as he looked up from his skooma pipe.

Caius blinked. "Wha? Oh, of course," he said. "Right. You're my new subordinate. Ah, go ask Hasphat about secret cults for me, all right?"

Tharlennis sighed – she had to walk in while Caius wasn't sober. "Gladly. Hasphat who, and which cults? And where is he?"

"You don't know Hasphat? Hasphat Antabolis the drillmaster? He's been in Balmora for years!" said Caius, forgetting in his intoxicated state that Tharlennis had been in Morrowind less than a week. "I wrote it down. It's on the table. Right. Ask for him at the Fighters' Guild." He took a long draught from his skooma pipe.

"Ah, right, I'll leave you to… that," said Tharlennis. "I'll… see you later… sir." Caius didn't answer as she picked up the scrawled note, left his house, and, once in the open air again, took several deep breaths to rid her lungs of the smell of the narcotic. She had no idea where Julan was, but if he wasn't still in the commercial district he'd probably headed to a tavern. Not knowing any others offhand, she went to look for him at the South Wall – if he wasn't there, she'd cross the river and head up the hill to advise him in his purchases.

The smell of skooma still lingered in her nose even as she entered the cornerclub, but if anyone else detected it on her, they didn't seem to mind. When asked about Julan, Sottilde directed Tharlennis down the stairs to the common area. Turning a corner, Tharlennis saw him sitting at the bar at the same time he saw her. He grinned and waved. "Did you have a nice talk with your addict man? 'Cause that's what they say he is here, an' you smell like skooma," he called to her in a voice that indicated he'd drunk entirely too much. He gave a high laugh. "Oh waitwaitwait, I forgot… I'm mad at you, aren't I, because… because…" He knit his brow, trying to remember. "I knew back before that fifth matze. Right! Because you made me go away, like you was, or he were hiding something from me! I got my eye on him, you know… or I will do, soon as everything stops moving in circles…" He raised his tankard to drink from it again, but Tharlennis stopped his hand.

"That's quite enough," she said. "Come on, we're not staying here. At least you managed to find some decent clothes before you wasted our money on drink." He had found a tough coat made of black leather. Its hem was worn, but the leather was thick and the stitching strong, and it didn't smell like anything. She helped him out of his chair and supported him on one shoulder. "Let's go. You're going to sleep this off, and for free now that we can spend the night in the Mages' guildhall." Supporting Julan on one shoulder, she left the South Wall and made for the other side of town.

"Yer no fun! C'mon, less go swimming in the river!" Julan attempted to shuck off his coat and failed miserably, and Tharlennis had to physically restrain him from throwing himself into the Odai as they crossed one of the bridges spanning it. Stronger than her, Julan slipped her grasp and was soon up to his neck in the cold water. "Gemme out! 'S cold!" he shrieked to her, reaching for her grasping hand. She tried to pull him back up over the sandstone wall that lined the river in the town, but his wet fingers slid from her grasp and he fell back to the water with a splash.

Tharlennis looked over her shoulder for help. "Hey! Can I get a guard or someone over here?" she called, and a Dunmer woman in the Bonemold armor of House Hlaalu turned. "My friend went and fell in the river, and he's too damn drunk to get himself out," Tharlennis explained as the guardswoman came over. "I can't lift him myself. A little help, officer?"

The guardswoman shook her head. "And they always say that law enforcement is glamorous," she sighed. "Come on, you. Back up onto dry land." She reached down and grabbed Julan by the wrist, and with Tharlennis's help, hauled him back up to the street. She looked to Tharlennis. "Where are you two staying? We can't have him out here causing a stir all night."

"Mages' Guild," Tharlennis said gratefully, and with the sodden and shivering Julan between them, she and the guard made their way up the hill to the lower commercial district, where the guildhall was. With some difficulty, Tharlennis managed to get Julan down to the guildhall's sleeping quarters and laid him on his side on a lower bunk, apologizing to the other mages in the process. An Altmer she didn't know helped her get rid of Julan's coat and cast a small charm on his hair and other clothing to help it dry faster. Before long, Julan was snoring loudly, and the Altmer woman cast a quick silencing spell on him "so when the rest of us go to bed, we can actually sleep."

"Thanks, er…"

"Estirdalin. If you need help researching any spells, that is the service I am here to provide."

"Thank you. I'll remember that." With a nod to Estirdalin, Tharlennis sat on the bed next to Julan's and read Caius's note.

_Ask Hasphat Antabolis the drillmaster what he knows about the Nerevarine Cult and the Sixth House. Do whatever favor he asks of you, and bear in mind it may be an ugly favor. Bring whatever information he gives you back to me._

She folded the note and pocketed it. It was too late in the evening to be going about doing ugly favors for people, so she read a while from a borrowed book and then went to sleep.

-----------------------------

Tharlennis woke before Julan the next morning, and proded him until he stirred. He rolled over and gritted his teeth. "Ow… my head! Sheogorath! Why did you let me drink so much?" he asked.

"I didn't 'let' you do anything," said Tharlennis. "I wasn't with you, remember? Oh, you probably don't. Drink some water. You'll be fine in a few hours."

"Can't you do something about it? You're a healer, at least a bit anyway…" he moaned, rubbing his temples.

"Not much of one." Tharlennis turned around and loudly called "Does anyone know a spell for poison resistance?" heedless of Julan's hangover. She was met with silence.

"You'll have to tough it out," she told Julan. "Come on - you need food and something to drink other than matze, and we've got an errand to run. Go grab some bread or something from one of the supply crates. You can eat while you walk." She helped him to his feet and handed him his coat, and he went with her, bread in hand, next door to the Fighters' Guildhall. A solidly-built Breton woman directed her down the stairs to the training room.

Two women sparred, sword versus spear, as an older man watched and called instructions to them. Tharlennis sat down next to him. "Are you Hasphat Antabolis? Caius Cosades sent me to ask you a few things."

"I am." Hasphat kept watching his trainees. "So Caius wants information? Well, that's fine, if you do me a favor first. This-for-that, and all. Keep it quiet, too – it's not strictly legal."

"'Legal' isn't a problem," Tharlennis assured him, as Julan raised an eyebrow. "What kind of favor?"

Hasphat dropped his voice. "The Dwemer ruin of Arkngthand lies nearby, just over the bridge past Fort Buckmoth. I need you to run over there for me and find a little cube with a circular design and some symbols on one side. Dwemer puzzle box. I'm sure there's one in that ruin somewhere. Bring it to me, and I'll tell you what you want to know."

"So the only law I'd be breaking is the one against trading Dwemer artifacts? That's pie. I'll do it." She glanced to Julan, who was giving a wry half-smile. "Fort Buckmoth is the big stone one I passed on my way here from Pelagiad, right?"

At Hasphat's confirmation and further instructions on how to get inside Arkngthand, she and Julan set off eastward, Julan muttering for several hundred feet about how hypocritical Imperials were, making all those laws about how anything valuable anyone happens to find lying around belonged to their precious Uriel Septim, and how most of the time they turned right back around and kept what they'd found anyway. "That's not to say I have anything against taking these things that nobody actually owns," he added. "I'm not going to abide by laws set up around a foundation of lies. What did Cosades want you to ask this Antabolis, anyway?"

"Something about secret cults," Tharlennis replied. "The Sixth House and something else that started with an N."

Julan started. "What in Oblivion does he want to know about _that_ for?"

"I don't know. He's keeping me in the dark about it too, or more likely he was too blinded by that cloud of skooma fumes to care when I asked him. It's rather maddening. I wish more people would tell me what's going on when I get involved in things."

Julan nodded, his eyes away from Tharlennis's face. "If you were referring to me with that, I'm not really ready to tell you the rest of what's going on for me," he said. "There – that looks like it must be the bridge we're supposed to cross."

A male figure stood at the end of the bridge, leaning on a spear. Seeing two people approach, he gripped it before him and brandished it menacingly, but Tharlennis and Julan didn't halt. Letting go of the spear with one hand, he raised the other above his head and dropped it rapidly, trailing a stream of orange sparks which burst when they hit the ground. A number of scattered bones around him skittered across the metal floor of the bridge and assembled themselves into a skeleton, which picked up a round shield and a saber and ran forward.

"You take the skeleton," Tharlennis told Julan. "Practice the fire some more. I'll hold off the mage so he doesn't bother you." She dashed toward the mage as she summoned her own fire, her skirts trailing behind her. The mage, a balding Imperial, threw every curse he knew at her, and while Tharlennis did manage to hit him with a couple handfuls of flame, she soon grew weary under the crushing weight of his spells. She still managed to dodge even with her head in a fog, and she brought out her dagger to hopefully succeed where her magic could not.

Julan made short work of the skeleton thanks to Tharlennis's tutelage, though the skeleton had managed to land several slashes. The bones soon fell away from each other, the magic holding them together weakened by the interference of another's spells and knocked apart by Julan's short sword. He sheathed his sword and drew back his bow, waiting for a shot as Tharlennis and the other mage circled each other, the mage keeping her at a distance with his spear while Tharlennis tried to dance close enough to slash the unprotected flesh of his shoulders and neck. An arrow zipped past her and glanced off the mage's cuirass, and as he turned his head to Julan, Tharlennis managed to get close enough to grab him from behind and hold her blade to his throat.

However, the enemy mage was the stronger combatant, and he was able to force her arm away before she could administer a lethal cut – but with his summoned skeleton gone and the rest of his well of power spent, there was little he could do against two foes at once, and Julan's next arrow struck true. He fell transfixed with the sharp point buried deep in his neck. Julan helped Tharlennis to her feet. "Everything all right?" he asked.

Tharlennis rubbed her head as her mental fog cleared. "I'm fine," she said. "I wonder who he was? What's in these crates?"

Julan pried the lid from one and looked inside. "Gems, and a rock that looks like ebony," he said. "I bet they're from the ruins. There could be a smuggling operation going on."

"Hopefully that won't be much of a problem," said Tharlennis as she took any gems of good enough quality for alchemical use. "That looks like it could be an entrance. Look for a crank like Hasphat said there would be."

The crank was soon found, and with a hiss of steam and a grinding of stone on stone, the doors parted. Tharlennis slipped through the heavy stone doors with Julan behind her into a large, cavernous room, lit by small fires set in the open ends of pipes. She and Julan each took a torch from a nearby crate and lit them from one of these fires, and carefully sidled down a rock ledge toward the cavern floor. One wall was built up with Dwemer architecture, lit by mysterious tubes that gave off a golden light, and some fallen rocks formed a ramp leading to a balcony of sorts. Tharlennis saw a flicker of movement, but couldn't tell what it was. "Watch my back," she told Julan, and with her dagger drawn, she stalked toward the lighted area. Three things happened at once.

A man in black spotted her and ran up the makeshift stone ramp, calling an alarm. Startled, Julan let fly an arrow at him and missed, while a strong arm grabbed Tharlennis from behind. She twisted away from the point of a knife, trying to bring her own weapon to bear, while the man who called the alarm turned and closed on Julan. Another of Julan's arrows grazed his knife arm. The smuggler grabbed Julan's arm with his uninjured hand to keep him from firing any arrows at Tharlennis's assailant, and stood close to prevent Julan from drawing his sword. Julan gritted his teeth as he summoned the concentration to cast a spell, but his grappling opponent was too much of a distraction.

Tharlennis was unable to turn enough to see her opponent, but as a more practiced mage than Julan she was able to summon enough willpower for a small handful of fire. She flailed behind herself until she felt her hand connect with her attacker's face, and he let go of her and drew back with a scream. As soon as she was free she whirled around and grabbed his face and arm more firmly. He jerked as she sent a powerful shock through his body, then he fell and lay still.

"A little help?" Julan called to her, still trying to wrest himself from the other smuggler's grasp. Tharlennis threw a jet of fire at the smuggler's back, careful not to hit Julan as well, and with that moment of distraction Julan was able to wrest control from him. He hooked his leg around the smuggler's and shoved him to the ground, and as the smuggler tried to rise, Tharlennis buried her knife in his unarmored chest.

She made a face. "I hate that part," she remarked, making a face at the large bloodstain on her dress. She ran her hand through the air above the stain, not quite touching it, and the blood lifted itself out of her dress to splatter on a nearby rock instead.

"Are you normally that frivolous with magic?" Julan asked.

"Why shouldn't I be?" Tharlennis replied. "It's good practice. Taking out stains needs a lot of fine control. It's slow, but I'm getting better at pulling things from further away. Besides, does it really matter? We should be looking for that box. Anyway, no more going around with weapons sheathed from now on, after that."

Julan nodded. "Well, this room first, I suppose. I think I saw some kind of container or shelf up on that balcony." He helped Tharlennis up the pile of fallen boulders onto the balcony, and the searched for any fist-sized cubes made of copper, but found nothing of that description. Tharlennis pocketed several ancient silver coins. As she considered what to do with an intact spear, Julan called to her, "It looks like there's a small room off of here."

"I'll come back for you," Tharlennis told the spear. "It could be a storage room, she said to Julan as she examined the doors, and dropped her voice. "I think I see some light coming through the crack between the doors, too, so there might be someone in there. We won't be caught off guard this time."

Julan nodded, and helped her open one of the heavy double doors. The metal screeched, and the doors opened to reveal another Dwemer light-tube.

"I told you not to bother me, Lync!" roared a man's voice, and its owned stepped around the corner, an axe in one hand and a whetstone in the other. "You ain't Lync and Ruuz," he said with a snarl. "And you ain't leaving, either!" He tossed the whetstone aside and gripped his axe two-handed. There was little room for Julan to shoot, so he drew his sword again and flattened his back against the wall of the corridor just as the smuggler boss's axe swished past. Tharlennis ducked past the man and put her back against the wall opposite Julan, and murmured the words to the same spell she'd used to kill the smuggler who'd grabbed her on the floor below. Her hand shot toward the bald Imperial and she grabbed him by the neckpiece of his armor, but she lost her grip as he twisted away with a roar and swatted her across the face the back of one hamlike hand. Her head cracked against a pipe, and as her vision darkened briefly she saw the Imperial's axe slice across one of Julan's legs.

Julan bit back a scream and made quick slashes with his sword at the Imperial's bare arms, hoping to make him clumsy with his heavy weapon, as Tharlennis got to her feet shakily and willed her dagger to be sharp. Thinking her unconscious, the Imperial was focusing his attentions on Julan, but his iron armor was far too thick for her dagger to be of much use. The back of his neck was fairly unguarded, but he was moving around too much for Tharlennis to get a good thrust in, so she instead she struck for his underarm, hoping to find a spot that would bleed heavily. Her head ached too much for her to cast any spells quickly, but with a deep gash from Tharlennis's dagger in his arm, the smuggler couldn't wield his axe properly, and Julan managed to get in a lucky slash with his sword. As the smuggler staggered, Tharlennis finished him off just before her knees buckled.

Julan was at her side in a moment. "Are you all right?" he asked. "You must have hit your head pretty hard."

Tharlennis reached to feel the back of her head, and her fingers touched wetness. "Can you take a look? I'm bleeding. How bad is it?"

"Let me see. Damn! I can't tell with so much hair in the way. I've still got a little bit of magic left in me, though, so I might be able to heal it."

"Would you?" Tharlennis asked, trying to use the last of her own magic to stop the loud buzzing in her ears. She felt Julan's fingers touch her wound gently, then a pleasant coolness as his magic stopped the bleeding. The dark clouds cleared from her vision and her dizziness receded. Julan helped her to her feet, and they looked around. "Looks like there's probably some valuable stuff in here," Tharlennis remarked, seeing several crates among the ransacked Dwemer fixtures. "Let's see what we can find and sell." She emptied several crates, taking the things that looked the most valuable for their size, while Julan examined the shelves on the other side of the room.

"What did Antabolis say that box looked like again? About the size of a fist?"

"Yes, and made of copper. How many of these goblets do you think we'll be able to fence?"

"I don't know, but come look at this." Julan held a metal cube in his hand. Tharlennis finished stuffing another goblet into her satchel as she came to look at what Julan had found.

"It definitely looks like what Hasphat said," she said. "Look, if you twist it this way, it moves. This is probably what we were looking for."

"Let me see… huh. What a weird little thing," said Julan as he manipulated the cube. "So now what? Are we going to explore this place some more, or just go back to Balmora?"

"To be honest I don't want to have to kill anyone else today," Tharlennis said. "I'm still a bit lightheaded, and besides, my satchel's full. We won't be able to carry off any more loot even if we did keep looking around."

"Fair enough." Julan nodded his assent, and the two of them headed back to town to deliver the cube to Hasphat in exchange for information.


End file.
